Tag Archives: dreams

Dream (boxes)

I’m at my friend Debbie Wassertzug’s house; for some reason there’s a lot of old stuff of mine in her house, boxes and books and papers and miscellany, stuff I haven’t had access to for years. I have my car with me and I’ve come by to pick it up, but unfortunately, she and her family are going to Miami — they’re leaving for the airport in five minutes — that’s how much time I have to figure out which of my things to pack and which to leave at her house, possibly for good. And I can’t decide. I’m stuck. Some of my stuff is out on shelves. An old boombox, a bunch of books. And when I look at each of those things, I think, can I live without having this? I’ve been getting along without it so far. I should take one of the sealed boxes instead, there might be something in there I really want to have again. But what if what’s in the sealed boxes is worthless to me? I’m paralyzed and very aware of Debbie and her family packing up as they get ready to leave. I feel like I could make a good decision if I only had a second to really think about it. I wake up without deciding anything.


Pandemic blog 41: dream

I’m in New York City. An app on my phone shows me when anyone in my contact list comes nearby, and I see that my friend Mark Poirier is just a block away — I haven’t seen him in years, what a treat! So I go meet up with him. We’re hungry so we go to an underground food court to get doner kebab. But suddenly I realize, I’m not wearing a mask, nobody‘s wearing a mask, what am I doing inside in a crowded place unmasked? Fortunately I have one with me, so I put it on; but a woman in a block-print T-shirt first glares at me, then gets into it with me, insisting that I shouldn’t wear one. I don’t know how to respond; I feel chastened, even though I know I’m in the right.

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I’m at Disney World with CJ, on a Pirates of the Caribbean-style ride, a car careening through a tunnel.  On the wall of the tunnel there are math posters, the kind you’d see in a high school classroom, about Pascal’s triangle, conic sections, etc.  And I feel sort of annoyed and depressed, because I know that Disney is going to make a big deal about how educational this ride is, but actually, nobody except me is looking at the posters, nobody who didn’t already know the math could get anything out of the posters, the way the car speeds down the track.

Please interpret and derive relevant policy prescriptions for math pedagogy in comments.

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Jordan and the Dream of Rogen

The other night I dreamed I was going into a coffeeshop and Seth Rogen was sitting at an outside table eating a salad.  He was wearing a jeans jacket and his skin was sort of bad.  I have always admired Rogen’s work so I screwed up my courage, went up to his table and said

“Are you…”

And he said, “Yes, I am… having the chef’s salad.  You should try it, it’s great.”

And I sort of stood there and goggled and then he was like, “Yeah, no, yes, I’m Seth Rogen.”

I feel proud of my unconscious mind for producing what I actually consider a reasonably Seth Rogen-style gag!

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As you know, I love ’80s videos and I love the Orioles, so obviously I have no choice but to post this fantastic shot-from-the-stands video of Earl Weaver coming out to argue a call, getting ejected, and then sticking around to cuss out the ump for three full minutes.

Thanks to the miracle of Google News Archive (searching for ‘”Earl Weaver” ejected’ in the early 1980s, then scanning for Tigers games) and baseball-reference.com (which will show you the O’s entire 1980 schedule, making it easy to see when they faced the Tigers at home with Mike Flanagan on the mound) I can tell you that this is September 17, 1980, top of the first inning, and that Weaver is arguing with first base umpire Bill Haller about a balk call on Flanagan that moved Alan Trammell to second base. The Orioles end up winning 9-3.

I dreamed about the Orioles the other night. I was taking CJ to his first game. We were playing the Yankees. We had very cheap seats in a sparsely populated part of the upper deck on the first-base side; when a foul ball came our way I was the only one scrambling for it, and I brought it back for CJ.

Pretty mundane dream, right? But I should also add that the pitcher for the Yankees was an overweight man in a dress. And in the middle of an at-bat the other Yankee players rushed in, hoisted him up on their shoulders, and carried him off the field; this was ruled a balk and the runner on third scored. Later the pitcher appeared in our row of the stands. At this close distance, I could see that his makeup needed serious work.

Anyway, here’s Earl. If you’re at work, you might want to turn the sound down first.

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